Nov 09 2008
Cool Words with Secrets
the creaking and shifting stirs arousal
covered with dried leaves
the turn of the corner not so secret anymore
secrecy strives to see someone
unaware, prone
just a friendly over the shoulder glance
often high walls surround us
put up by both
by our intentions or by their mind
Sometimes one can find cracks
more times placed intentionally
people want to be asked about, thought about
we can feel as though we’re floating
no anchor to the ground
free to drift wherever, nobody asking questions
float like a ballon, having left
a four year olds
small, young, grasping fingers
reaching higher and higher
wanting their to be no limit
but their is sadly, a limit he did not choose
he wants to shout out to it
tell it to stop
but the voice is stolen by the wind
whipping against all sides
pushed over and beyond
it relinquishes its freedom to an overhanging branch
the long branched and twigs
turned to barbs
gentle caress its sensitive surface
the balloon consists of the boy
its filled with him
he gave life to it in the beginning
but like everything that begins
a middle and an end
POP


